


Pessimism and Penitence

by AppleTaters



Category: Twilight Series - All Media Types
Genre: Bella POV, Edward POV, F/M, alternating pov, georgian era au, pride and prejudice au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:15:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25992757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AppleTaters/pseuds/AppleTaters
Summary: Under a near-constant cover of clouds and rain, the people of Forks, Washington lived a blissfully uneventful existence. Nothing of significance ever happened in their small town, leaving the locals to find sparse amusement in trivial dramas, public balls, and the occasional visit from the regiment. That was, until a mysterious new family moved into their isolated community, and Isabella Swan found herself the object of the special attention of Edward Cullen, who was as infuriating as he was handsome.
Relationships: Edward Cullen/Bella Swan, Other Canon Relationships
Comments: 15
Kudos: 14





	1. A Public Ball

**Author's Note:**

> In an effort to set the tone, I've stolen a bunch of phrasing from Pride and Prejudice (both the book and the 2005 film adaptation), as well as Twilight and Midnight Sun. Also, I am aware that this story has zero historical accuracy. It's also a story about vampires, so.

Under a near-constant cover of clouds and rain, the people of Forks, Washington lived a blissfully uneventful existence. Nothing of significance ever happened in their small town, leaving the locals to find sparse amusement in trivial dramas, public balls, and the occasional visit from the regiment.

Isabella Swan and her father Charlie lived just outside of town on a humble yet comfortable estate, nestled up against the lush forest. Isabella, who was rather fond of walking, often amused herself by ambling through the dense trees until she found her favorite reading spot— a wide, grassy meadow dotted with bright, fragrant wildflowers. On those rare days when the clouds broke, her secret meadow was bathed in golden light, and Isabella loved to lie down and soak in the heat of the sun’s rays, escaping into the stories of people who lived much more exciting lives than she.

She had just returned home from such a stroll and a small, contented smile graced her features as she poked her head into her father’s study to announce her return. 

“I have come back to you in one piece, father,” she said brightly, leaning on the doorframe with her book clutched in her arms.

Charlie looked up from his writing and smiled affectionately at his only daughter.

“What a relief,” he said, and clutched his chest in a mock display of concern.

“I’ve been simply overcome with worry; I haven’t been able to get any work done.”

“Evidently,” Isabella said, smirking pointedly at the pile of papers on her father’s desk, covered in his untidy scrawl.

Charlie chuckled.

“You’re the most capable woman in this town, Bells. I learned to stop fretting about you a long time ago,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Isabella smiled at her father’s praise. She loved Charlie, in no small part because he respected her independent nature. 

“How was your visit to town this morning? Did anything extraordinary happen?” she inquired, sarcasm creeping into her tone. After all, nothing ever happened in Forks.

A strange look crept over her father’s face.

“As a matter of fact, I do have some news I believe will be of particular interest to you.”

Isabella narrowed her eyes, immediately suspicious.

“What sort of news?” she asked, walking to her father’s desk and perching delicately on the edge, careful not to disturb the piles of loose papers.

“A retired medical doctor and his wife have moved into Netherfield Park.”

Isabella said nothing, fiddling with some mechanical toy which sat on her father’s desk, waiting for the other shoe to drop. A new family moving into their isolated community was somewhat interesting, but her father’s expression clearly hinted that there was more.

“After I visited town and heard the news from Sir Weber, I took the carriage to Netherfield to make their acquaintance. And what should I find, but that the doctor and his wife are also hosting their three sons for a time.”

Charlie picked up one of his dragonfly specimen from the case on his desk, twirling the glittering insect on the point of a pin, and Isabella barely suppressed an eye-roll at her father’s blatant attempt at generating suspense.

“The two eldest, Emmett and Jasper, are accompanied by their spouses— lovely girls, I think you’ll like them very much. Their youngest son, however, is still unmarried.”

Isabella kept the annoyance from showing on her face only through years of practice. So much for Charlie respecting her independence.

“So your extraordinary news is that there’s a single man in Forks?” she asked, trying to keep her voice light.

Charlie laughed, not fooled by Isabella’s thin veneer of politeness. He knew his daughter’s mind, probably better than she realized.

“Single, and rich. And you know very well it is a universal truth that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife,” Charlie said with a wink.

“I’m simply aiding the poor man in his quest. I’ll introduce you at the ball on Saturday.”

Isabella’s mouth turned down at the corners. There was nothing she disliked so much as being paraded before eligible suitors. Her worst fear was being trapped in an unhappy marriage.

However, Isabella knew a wedding loomed on the horizon, lest she become a burden and a shame on her father. Her gaze fixed on the dragonfly held aloft in her father’s hand, and she empathized with the poor creature.

Charlie sighed. He sounded tired, and Isabella felt a small pang of remorse for her stubbornness. She knew that all he truly desired was for her to find happiness.

“Please, Isabella, at least wait until you meet him before you completely dismiss the idea. Edward is a little quiet, but he seemed like a nice young man. And I am certain you’ll find him handsome enough, though I’m hardly an expert in such matters.”

Isabella felt her cheeks flush and shook her head awkwardly, standing to flee her father’s office before he could harass her with more details about this Edward Cullen fellow.

“See you at dinner!” she called over her shoulder, and hastened to her room to have a good sulk.

No matter how desperately Isabella wished Saturday would never arrive, all too soon it was the evening of the dreaded ball. She and Charlie, dressed in their most expensive and least comfortable clothing, climbed into their carriage and began the bumpy journey into town. Isabella stared glumly out of the carriage window, her chin in her hand. Charlie looked over at his daughter and sighed. 

“Can you at least try to enjoy yourself?” he pleaded.

“I didn’t say anything!” Isabella retorted, avoiding her father’s gaze.

Charlie rolled his eyes. 

“You’re an open book, Bells. Your expression speaks volumes.”

Isabella winced, and glanced at her father with an apologetic look.

“Just put the Cullens out of your mind for now. You’ll get to see Miss Weber, at least.”

Isabella perked up at the mention of her dearest companion and closest confidant, whom she had not seen in recent weeks, and resolved not to let her father’s attempts at match-making ruin an otherwise pleasant evening with her friend.

Before long, the Swan’s carriage slowed to a halt in front of the Town Hall. The circular drive was bustling with people dressed in their finery, disembarking from carriages and making their way towards the entrance. The sound of lively music and laughter spilled from the bright doorway into the otherwise dark and quiet night. The attendant at the door exchanged bows with Charlie as they approached, and Isabella rushed a curtsy, impatient to get inside and witness the revelry. 

Dense throngs of people lined the walls, leaving a vacant space in the middle of the hall where countless couples spun in an enthusiastic dance. The air was warm and heavy, and smelt strongly of ale. Isabella was making her way into the room, scanning the crowd for her friend’s tell-tale head of black hair, when she was nearly knocked off her feet as warm arms wrapped her in a hug.

“My dear Bella!” Angela crowed tipsily in her ear, and Isabella returned her friend’s embrace with a laugh.

“Have you cleared out the bar already?” Isabella teased, and Angela scoffed.

“You know I have a sensitive constitution, Bella. I’ve only had two cups, I swear.”

Isabella raised her eyebrows.

“Okay, maybe three,” Angela conceded, and Bella tipped her head back as she laughed.

Just then, a man stumbled drunkenly into the pair, nearly sending Isabella sprawling once again.

“I’ve never seen the hall so crowded,” Isabella remarked to Angela once the man had finally stopped apologizing and melted back into the crowd of dancers.

“Practically the whole town is in attendance. No one wants to miss their chance to meet the mysterious Cullen family,” Angela explained, “and to introduce their daughters to the doctor’s son, of course.” 

Isabella didn’t bother holding in her groan.

“Can people in this town think of nothing else but marriage?”

“Oh Bella, let us silly romantics have our daydreams about being swept off our feet by a handsome gentleman,” Angela sighed, a wistful look in her eyes.

Isabella smirked. 

“You know as well as I that he could have warts and a leer, and half the ladies in town would still swoon just because he is something new for them to look at.”

Before Angela could reply, an eery hush fell over the room. Even the music tapered off as everyone turned, seemingly in unison, to ogle the group of strangers who had just walked into the hall. Isabella peered around a man blocking her view of the entrance, and her eyes widened.

The Cullens were the most beautiful people she had ever seen, even more perfect than the loftiest imagination could conjure. They all had the same impossibly smooth, pale skin, making them look like marble statues that had come to life. 

In the center of the group walked an older man, perhaps in his early forties, the wrinkles on his face and grey streaks in his blonde hair only adding to his allure, giving him an undeniable air of authority and experience. 

Angela leaned in and muttered introductions in Isabella’s ear as the family walked in silence through the hall, couples wordlessly moving to the side to let them pass.

“That’s Doctor Carlisle Cullen, in the middle. On his arm is his wife, Esme.”

The doctor’s wife had a beautiful heart-shaped face and auburn hair. Isabella gazed at the woman’s kind smile and found herself thinking of her mother, though Renee Swan had looked nothing like this ethereal woman. Feeling her throat constrict at a sudden influx of memories, Isabella quickly shifted her gaze to the young man on her right.

He was easily six feet tall, and his immaculately tailored suit didn’t hide his muscular arms. He looked like he could win a fight against a bear, but his mouth was quirked into a mischievous half-smile, giving him a youthful appearance.

“Who’s the big one?” Isabella asked her friend quietly.

“That’s Emmett Cullen,” Angela replied. 

“The blonde woman is Rosalie, Emmett’s wife.”

Rosalie had a kind of beauty that almost hurt to look at, at the same time as it utterly captivated you. Describing her as ‘blonde’ was not inaccurate, but the word didn’t capture the way her hair shone like the purest gold under the candlelight. Her full lips were curled as if in distaste as she took in the scene.

“Jasper is the one with long hair, and the black-haired one is his wife Alice,” Angela continued.

Jasper Cullen was just as handsome as the others, though something in his expression looked pained, as though he had a bad headache. His light brown hair hung loosely, and reached just past his chiseled jawline. His wife Alice, who held onto his arm lovingly, reminded Isabella of the fairies in the books she’d read in her childhood. She was very petite, not even reaching her husband’s shoulder. Her face was somehow innocent-looking, and she had a graceful spring in her step, as though she were dancing rather than walking across the floor. 

Isabella’s eyes slid to the right, and her heart stopped, only to pick up again in double-time. Next to Alice Cullen, trailing slightly behind the others, walked the most beautiful man Isabella had ever seen. His features were perfectly angular; high cheekbones were balanced by a strong jawline, his tall forehead partially obscured by a mass of wavy, bronze-colored hair. His perfect lips were pressed firmly together, and his eyes stared straight ahead as though unseeing.

With all the Cullens named but one, Isabella realized that the man nearest her must be—

“Edward,” she breathed, barely making a sound.

Suddenly, his head turning impossibly quickly, Edward’s golden brown eyes met hers. Isabella’s breath caught, and she reflexively lowered her head in a polite curtsy. Looking up through her eyelashes, she found Edward still staring, a look of utter shock gracing his impossibly handsome features. And then, as quickly as he had turned towards her, he was once again facing forwards, an eerily blank expression on his face. 

Isabella rose from her curtsy, a blush creeping up her neck. Angela let out a squeak before clamping a hand over her mouth.

The Cullens reached the back of the hall and turned around to face the silent crowd, looking as though they had just stepped out of a priceless painting.

Dr. Cullen flashed a white smile and called out in a voice that was friendly and warm, yet carried an indescribable power.

“Please, don’t stop the festivities on our account.”

There was a beat of silence, and then the music began again and the spell was broken. People spilled into the center of the room and struck up another dance, and conversation resumed, perhaps even louder than before.

Angela grabbed Isabella’s arm, tearing her attention away from the Cullens.

“I think you caught his eye, Bella,” Angela said with awe.

“Maybe he’ll ask you to dance.”

Isabella bit her lip and looked back at Edward. His brows were knitted together, and he was staring resolutely at the wall, as though afraid to make eye contact with anyone.

“He looks utterly miserable,” Bella muttered, and Angela giggled.

“He does, doesn’t he? Though I really can’t fathom how anyone could possibly be miserable with the amount of money he has.”

Isabella tried not to look curious. There were many more important things in this life than wealth.

“He makes ten thousand a year,” Angela continued, sounding as though she didn’t quite believe it herself, “and he owns half of Bellingham.”

“Is it the miserable half?” Isabella joked, and Angela swatted her on the arm with a laugh. From across the room, Isabella could have sworn she saw Edward’s mouth quirk into a brief smile, but she blinked and his neutral expression had returned.

Charlie suddenly appeared at Angela’s elbow, and he followed Isabella’s gaze with a pleased smirk.

“Well then, why don’t we go introduce ourselves?” he said, and hastily began herding the two girls towards the far end of the hall.

Isabella couldn’t find the words to argue, and simply tried to collect her thoughts so she wouldn’t say anything inappropriate in front of the extraordinary newcomers.

The trio weaved through the dense crowd until they stood in front of the retired doctor and his wife. Charlie had just begun introducing Angela when, out of the corner of her eye, Isabella saw Edward go tense. Her eyes darted over to him instinctively, and what she saw made her blood run cold. Edward’s features had twisted into an expression she could only interpret as murderous rage. His angelic beauty was gone, replaced by something primal, monstrous, and terrifying. 

“Edward, no.” Alice spoke softly but urgently, placing a dainty hand on Edward’s chest as if to hold the much larger man in place. Isabella flinched at Alice’s sudden appearance; she would have sworn that, just a moment ago, Alice had been standing next to her husband on Carlisle’s other side.

Edward’s eyes flashed to his sister-in-law’s face for a moment, and then he turned stiffly on his heel and, before Isabella could even process what had happened, he had disappeared into the crowd without a word.

The entire exchange took less than a few seconds. Isabella’s father was still introducing Angela to the doctor, and both were smiling as though nothing at all had occurred. In fact, none of the other Cullens had reacted at all, Edward’s absence the only indication that Isabella had not imagined his peculiar behavior.

“…my own daughter, Isabella.”

The sound of her name snapped Isabella out of her shocked stupor, and she attempted to wipe the confusion and fear off her face as she curtsied politely, but she could not calm the racing of her heart.

As Dr. Cullen made small-talk with Charlie, Isabella took the opportunity to get a closer look at his family. They were even more dazzling up close, and Isabella noted that their eyes were all the same peculiar golden-brown hue. The statuesque blonde woman— Rosalie— caught her staring, and her lips pulled back into an expression that was less a smile than it was a baring of teeth. Isabella looked away nervously, a chill going down her spine, and prayed for an excuse to escape the conversation.

Angela announced suddenly that she was going to join the dancing, and Isabella gratefully let her friend take her hand, pulling her away from the Cullens and into the crowd. Instead of joining the many boisterous couples, however, Angela led them around the edge of the room and behind a partition. Once they were out of sight, Isabella collapsed against the wall and took a shaky breath.

“Bella, you look as if you’ve seen a ghost,” Angela said, her eyes wide.

“Are you alright?”

A hysterical giggle spilled from Isabella’s lips, and she wrapped her trembling arms around herself.

“I hardly know,” she replied, avoiding her friend’s concerned eyes. She was hesitant to tell anyone about Edward’s frightening expression, afraid she would not be believed or, worse, she would be laughed at. It had all happened so quickly…

A conversation on the other side of the partition suddenly reached their ears, barely audible over the music and laughter. 

“I can’t stand to be here, Alice. I’m leaving.”

The speaker was hidden from view, but there was no mistaking that voice, as smooth as velvet even in anger— it was one of Dr. Cullens’ sons, and Isabella had a suspicion as to which.

“I had hoped you might actually enjoy yourself for once,” Alice said, her high, tinkling voice colored with disappointment.

The male Cullen chuckled sardonically.

“I daresay it would have been tolerable, had the Swan girl chosen to stay at home.”

“You won’t be able to avoid her forever, Edward.”

Bella’s stomach churned at the realization that it was she herself who had been found so distasteful by the beautiful stranger. 

“I certainly endeavor to try,” Edward replied tersely, and the sound of their retreating footsteps faded into the din of the crowd.

Isabella stared at her feet and felt her eyes sting with tears, shame and anger coursing through her in equal measure. What on earth could she have done to provoke such hatred?

“Oh, Bella,” Angela whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

Isabella squeezed her eyes shut, determined not to cry in front of her friend. The only thing she despised more than her father’s meddlesome match-making was being pitied. 

“I’m glad he’s gone,” she said at last, when she was sure her voice wouldn’t waver.

“No matter how handsome he may appear, he’s just a cruel and shallow man. I wouldn’t marry someone like that even for half of Bellingham, let alone the miserable half.”

Angela laughed, and Isabella smiled weakly.

“There must be something very wrong with him; some sort of emotional problem. After all, his family was so nice.”

Isabella thought back to Rosalie’s apparent hostility. Angela was sometimes so inclined towards kindness as to cloud her judgment.

“You're a great deal too apt to like people in general, you know. Everyone in the world is good and agreeable in your eyes.” 

“Not Edward,” Angela said emphatically, shaking her head. 

“Oh, I cannot believe what he said about you.” 

“No matter,” Isabella feigned nonchalance, determined not to spare him another thought for the remainder of the night.

“I doubt I shall ever see him again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made Carlisle and Esme older, closer to how they are in the movies, and I took out the part of their cover story where they're all adopted. Instead, Emmett, Jasper, and Edward are supposedly Carlisle and Esme's blood children (of course they aren't really) and Rosalie and Alice have married into the family. I figure that historically, before the advent of a lot of technology and stuff, it would have been a lot easier for them to cover their tracks, so I didn't worry too much about that aspect of the Cullens' lives. Hopefully it doesn't totally ruin the suspension of disbelief.


	2. A Brief Conversation

As soon as he escaped the confines of Forks’ Town Hall, curious eyes and judgmental thoughts following in his wake, Edward realized he couldn’t simply take the carriage back to his parents’ new home, as the rest of his family would need it later that evening. He altered his course, cutting across the square, careful to keep his gait slow in case he crossed paths with someone who wasn’t currently gorging themselves on drink at the ball. Once he reached the cover of the dense forest, he broke into a run, and the trees shot past him at a speed that should have turned his surroundings into a blur of color. As it was, Edward’s sharp eyes took in every detail, though he hardly noticed, his throat still burning with thirst. He inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with clean air as if to expunge them of the Swan girl’s scent. 

In over a century living as a vampire, he had never encountered anything like it, never smelled a human with blood so sweet. The moment he had caught her scent, it was as if his decades of practiced self-control had slipped away and, in an instant, he was reduced to his most evil instincts. The temptation of the girl’s blood had overtaken him, and he had been prepared to slaughter every living person in that room just to taste it. It disturbed him deeply that all it took was one frail girl to strip him of the shreds of humanity he had attempted to cloak himself in. If it hadn’t been for Alice’s intervention, Forks would have become a ghost town overnight, no doubt attracting the merciless wrath of the Volturi. Edward had nearly cost his family their lives.

Edward slowed to a stop as he approached the boundary of his parents’ sprawling estate, realizing he wasn’t eager to return to the huge, empty house. He desperately wanted a distraction from his thoughts, from his memories. 

Deciding it couldn’t hurt to attempt to quench his lingering thirst, Edward turned and headed deeper into the forest, listening for a tell-tale heartbeat. The smell of deer colored the air, and Edward grimaced; after the scent of the Swan girl, the prospect of drinking animal blood was almost revolting in comparison. Still, he dropped into a crouch and let the unappetizing scent pull him forward…

The sound of wooden wheels crunching over gravel reached Edward where he sat beside a stream, and he frowned at his ghostly reflection in the water as he stood. He knew Alice would have told them everything by now. Fighting against the very core of his being, it had been all he could do to make his excuses to Alice before fleeing.

Rosalie would be furious, of course, that he had managed to pollute their family’s reputation in this small town within minutes of his entering it. Emmett would probably be amused, for the same reason. Alice would be afraid, both for the Swan girl’s life and for Edward’s own, should he be unable to quell the monster within. Carlisle would be…

Once again flooded with self-loathing, Edward kicked at a piece of rock that lay on the forest floor, sending it flying through the air until it embedded itself in a fir tree half a mile away. The childish act did little to dispel his anguish.

Edward feared his father’s quiet disappointment more than anything. The doctor would be kind and understanding, he knew. Yet Edward was afraid to face his creator after he himself had come so close to disregarding the one pact that made their family into something more than just a collection of monsters. How close he had come to murdering so many innocents…

His family’s thoughts began fading into his mind as they entered the outer ranges of his abilities, and Edward knew he had only minutes before they reached the manor. Tipping his head back, Edward looked up, past the tops of the towering trees to the star-filled sky beyond. He entertained the idea of praying, but quickly dismissed the thought with a wry smile. His soul was beyond salvation.

And with that sobering thought, Edward turned and ran back the way he had come.

When his family filed into the sitting room, they found Edward at the writing desk, scribbling in a journal. They made no move to sit; the plush furnishings were only there to keep up appearances.

Rosalie was mentally screaming insults in his direction, only holding her tongue because she knew it wasn’t her place to break the silence. Edward saw Esme’s concerned face in Carlisle’s mind as they had a silent debate over who would broach the subject. His parents sometimes seemed as though they could read each other’s thoughts, though Edward knew they had no such ability. Only he was cursed with knowing how everyone felt about him, everywhere he went. Well, almost everyone.

In the end, it was his mother who spoke first.

“Where did you go?” _Son, are you alright?_

Edward finished writing the last few words of a poem before setting down his pen.

“I went hunting,” he answered finally.

“Did it help?” _I’m sorry._

He recalled the overpowering scent of the girl, of Isabella Swan, and merely the memory was enough to set his throat on fire.

“No.”

Rosalie couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“Well, is she going to tell the entire town that their new neighbor’s creepy son tried to murder her, or not?”

“He didn’t—” Alice began defensively, but Carlisle held up a hand and she went quiet.

“Do we have reason to be concerned?” Carlisle asked calmly.

Edward stood up and turned to face his family. 

“I don’t know,” he confessed.

“What do you mean?” asked Emmett. _Just tell us what she was thinking._

“Her mind, it’s…” Edward struggled to put into words something he had never experienced before tonight.

“Her mind is closed to me. When I try to hear her thoughts, there’s just… nothing.”

He cast his mind back to the Town Hall, remembering his shocked face reflected in the girl’s wide brown eyes as he’d attempted to penetrate the shield which hid her mind so completely from him. 

Edward registered his family’s surprise, feeling ashamed. His abilities had never faltered and now, when he himself had put his family in jeopardy, he could not ensure their secrecy.

“I’m so sorry, Carlisle. I’ve let you down. If I’d known—”

_Son, stop._ His father’s unspoken command silenced him.

“What you did tonight was extremely difficult. We all know that, and we’re proud of you for showing such admirable restraint.”

Rosalie scoffed, but Carlisle ignored her, turning instead to Alice.

“What can you see?”

Edward watched through her mind as his sister strained her vision into the future, trying to catch a glimpse of what would become of the Swan girl, but all she could see were vague images which shimmered and changed at a rapid pace. 

“Nothing concrete,” she admitted, and focused on the present once more.

“Everything’s shifting too quickly, I can’t make any of it out.”

“Perhaps that means she hasn’t said anything,” Emmett piped up hopefully.

“I mean, who in town would believe her, even if she did?”

Carlisle’s mind immediately answered the rhetorical question, and Edward voiced his father’s thoughts through a clenched jaw.

“Mr. Swan is close with the Black family.” 

Rosalie laughed humorlessly. 

“That is simply brilliant. Excellent work, Edward.”

Carlisle pinched the bridge of his nose, marveling at his daughter’s uncanny ability to find blame in others. Edward’s lips quirked in spite of himself at his father’s thoughts.

“Our treaty with the Quileutes is older than the Mayflower,” Esme said gently, placing a calming hand on Rosalie’s shoulder.

“It will not be made void because a member of our family scowled at someone. They will keep our secret as long as no human blood is shed.”

Rosalie pouted, but yielded to her mother’s sound logic.

“I’m going into town again in a few days,” Carlisle began, but Edward interrupted, realizing his plan before he could finish speaking.

“No. I can’t.”

“Yes, you can,” his father said firmly, “I have the utmost faith in you.”

Edward chose not to share his thoughts about his father’s tendency towards misplaced faith.

“Dear, what are you thinking?” Esme asked her husband.

“Edward will come with me to Forks on Tuesday, and see if he can smooth things over with the Swan girl. A few polite words, a few smiles, and I’m sure she’ll forget his behavior tonight entirely.”

Rosalie threw her hands up in exasperation. 

“If your plan hinges on Edward charming a woman, then it’s doomed from the start!”

Emmett coughed to hide his bark of laughter, shooting an apologetic glance at Edward.

“I can’t see what will happen, Carlisle,” Alice said, her eyes unfocused as she once again gazed into the future. Edward watched visions flash through her mind— Edward and his father walking through Forks, Carlisle going through a doorway, Edward sees the girl from across the street, and then… the scene is overtaken by a white mist, constantly shifting but never solidifying.

“I can see that he crosses paths with Miss Swan, but—” she glanced at Edward with a worried expression, “it all depends on Edward’s choice in that moment.”

“I’m not strong enough,” Edward insisted.

“You already resisted her once, and you can do it again,” Carlisle said firmly.

“The difference is that this time, you’ll be ready.”

Carlisle’s decision was final, and the discussion was over. Edward’s siblings dispersed to find their preferred sections of the house and grounds, Emmett practically dragging his stubborn wife out of the room.

As Edward turned to leave, his mother’s thoughts became louder and more deliberate.

_You won’t hurt her, Edward. You’re the best of us all._

Edward kept walking, giving no outward sign that he had heard.

Over the next few days, Edward went hunting more than he regularly did in a month’s time. He knew it wouldn’t really help once he saw her, wouldn’t change the way the song of the Swan girl’s blood called out to him, but making preparations, futile as they were, gave him a little more peace of mind. 

After two of the longest days of his immortal existence, during which he did little more than worry, it was finally Tuesday morning. The atmosphere at Netherfield was tense as Edward shrugged on his coat, and he thought with some amusement that it felt as though he were headed to trial— amusing because he was somehow the defendant, judge, and executioner all rolled into one. This simple excursion into town could go one of two ways and, though his parents, Alice, and Emmett were confident he would let the girl live, Rosalie and Jasper had made no efforts to hide their doubt. Edward himself had no idea whatsoever as to how it would pan out. It was, in his mind, the world’s highest-stakes coin toss.

Carlisle was outside making small-talk with the carriage driver who had just arrived to take them into Forks, and Edward nervously fixed his already-straight tie in the mirror, marveling at his father’s unwavering calm. If he was a human, he was certain his hands would have been shaking. 

Alice’s reflection appeared suddenly beside his, and she grinned impishly as she unceremoniously jammed a hat over his eyes.

_This is the first time she’ll be meeting the real you, so you’d better make a good impression!_

Edward sighed and reached up to adjust the top hat, brushing strands of his reddish-brown hair back into place.

“I’m not trying to court her, Alice,” he said, almost smiling at the absurdity of the notion.

_Well, no, but you might be the last thing she sees, so you might as well look your best._

Edward scowled at her in the mirror.

“That’s not funny.”

_Oh, come on, it’s a little funny._

“You are a menace to society, my dear sister, and not just because you have fangs.”

_We don’t even have fangs, that would look ridiculous._

An image of Rosalie with comically large canines appeared in her mind, and Edward turned away to hide his smile. 

Carlisle’s thoughts called out to him.

_Edward, it’s time._

Fighting the urge to leap out of the window and simply run from the source of his stress, Edward instead opened the front door and walked towards the carriage. His family’s eyes, and thoughts, followed him as he climbed in beside his father, and they began the slow journey into Forks. 

Their carriage slowed to a stop outside the Forks hospital after what felt to Edward like an eternity, though he knew in reality was less than an hour. Carlisle had explained during the carriage ride that his presence had been requested by the local physician, who was handling an unfamiliar case and hoped the celebrated doctor might know of a remedy. Of course the townspeople weren’t aware of the full extent of his experience, which spanned nearly two centuries, ten advanced degrees from universities around the globe, and many influential discoveries published under various pseudonyms, but they knew enough to realize his medical opinion carried significant weight. Carlisle, of course, was happy to provide assistance wherever he could. He might be retired on paper, but his compulsion to help others would never let him truly leave the field of medicine.

The carriage came to a stop near the center of town and, as they disembarked, Edward recalled Alice’s vision of Edward, alone, encountering Miss Swan while his father was still inside the hospital. As if reading his mind, Carlisle commanded Edward to wait for him outside while he spoke with the physician.

“I daresay it will be a short consult,” he continued as they approached the door, “so don’t get yourself into any trouble.”

He smiled warmly.

“I have the utmost faith that things will work out.”

Edward waited until his father had disappeared through the door before he let his mouth twist in distaste, glad as always that his thoughts were his and his alone. Edward felt his father’s talk of _faith,_ his unquestioning belief in an all-knowing, all-powerful, all-benevolent God, was as foolish as it was admirable. He wished he could share in his father’s optimism, but he knew beyond any semblance of doubt that Carlisle’s beloved God had cruelly turned His back on him in the same moment He had allowed him to be turned into a monster.

_Isabella Swan!_

Hearing the doomed girl’s name in someone’s thoughts caught Edward’s attention and his gaze snapped up to find the source. 

Miss Swan had just walked out of a shop across the street, but of course it wasn’t her thoughts he had heard. A little ways down the street from the girl, a young man had spotted her and began walking quickly in her direction, his thoughts becoming excited.

_This must be a sign, running into her like this, again! I knew we were meant to be._

“Miss Swan!” the man called out to the girl’s retreating back.

“Miss Swan, turn around!”

The girl visibly flinched at the sound of her name, but she kept walking away, in fact speeding up slightly, as if she was trying to avoid her friend. The man behind her was not discouraged, and he broke into a jog so he could catch up to her. When he was only a few feet behind her, he called out her name again. Obviously realizing she could not outrun him, she grimaced before turning to face him.

“Mr. Newton, how pleasant to see you again,” the girl said.

_She’s pretty,_ the man thought to himself, not recognizing the discomfort behind her smile.

Edward, still watching from across the street, thought that _pretty_ did not do the Swan girl justice. The few times he had seen her face in the past, he had been too preoccupied with attempting to decode her thoughts, or resisting his bloodlust, to really look at her. Seeing her now, with nothing clouding his mind, he felt that she was the most beautiful creature he had ever beheld. Her skin was pale, almost as pale as his own, but her brown eyes were warm. He inexplicably wanted desperately to see her red-lipped smile directed at _him_ , and not at Mr. Newton. This other man did not deserve Isabella Swan’s smiles, Edward decided, whether they were genuine or not. 

“I was wondering if, well…” Newton began, intending to ask the girl to dine with him, and Edward scowled. As fate would have it, that was the moment Miss Swan looked over Newton’s shoulder and caught Edward staring. Her eyes widened as she took in his sour expression, which Edward quickly attempted to school into something more nonchalant, but the damage had already been done; she looked afraid. 

Cursing inwardly, Edward glanced behind him at the door his father had gone through only moments before, wishing helplessly that he would reappear. The door remained firmly shut. 

Edward turned back to where Newton was currently waiting for an answer to his dinner invitation, though Miss Swan seemed as though she hadn’t heard him at all; her eyes were still trained on Edward, a suspicious look on her face.

His father’s order echoing in his mind, Edward stepped into the street. When the Swan girl realized he was walking towards her, her eyes widened almost comically. Edward needed to talk to her, to make himself seem friendly and obliging, before _stalking_ was added to her list of potential accusations against him. His decision to interrupt had nothing at all to do with Newton asking the girl to dine with him. If he managed to reach the pair before the other man had a chance to repeat his invitation, well, that was purely coincidence.

When he was halfway across the street, Edward pulled in a breath through his mouth, filling his lungs with air, and then ceased breathing altogether. Cutting off his sense of smell was somewhat uncomfortable for a creature who relied so strongly on it, but Edward knew that the Swan girl had a better chance at life if he never caught her scent.

“Miss Swan, did you hear me?” Newton was saying, and the girl’s gaze finally left Edward’s face as she turned back to the man in front of her.

“I’m so sorry, what did you say?” Miss Swan asked politely. Edward was only a few yards from them now. 

“I was asking to see if you perhaps would like to join me—”

Newton flinched when he noticed Edward suddenly standing beside him, and cut himself off mid-sentence.

“I’m so sorry,” Edward said softly, careful not to show too much of his teeth as he smiled at Miss Swan, “am I interrupting?”

_Yes,_ Newton thought angrily, but Miss Swan quickly shook her head.

“No, not at all,” she said, looking at Edward with… was it relief? Her smile, though small, seemed more genuine than the ones she had given Mr. Newton, and Edward felt like there were tiny fireworks exploding in his chest at the sight. 

“I didn’t get the chance to introduce myself the other day,” Edward continued, keeping his eyes locked with Miss Swan’s, “I’m Edward Cullen.”

“Yes, I know,” she answered reflexively, and then a blush quickly painted her cheek as she realized what she had said. Edward found that pooling of blood under her pale skin very intriguing, and not for the reason he would have expected.

“What I mean to say is, welcome to Forks. I’m Isabella Swan.”

Mr. Newton’s thoughts were a continuous tirade against Edward’s very existence, which the vampire easily ignored.

“Thank you, Miss Isabella. I have greatly enjoyed my stay here so far. I find the forest most diverting.”

“The trees are beautiful, are they not?” the girl replied.

Edward, feeling dazzled by the girl’s proximity, was saved from having to think of a response when another one of Isabella’s friends appeared at her elbow.

_What is Mr. Cullen doing talking to Bella?_ the girl thought with surprise.

_He has some nerve…_ Anger seeped into her thoughts but she felt no fear, for herself or her friend, being in his presence. Relieved, Edward reasoned that the Swan girl must not have told anyone about the threatening behavior Edward had exhibited on Saturday.

Outwardly, the girl acted the role of a perfect lady as she introduced herself as a Miss Angela Weber. However, Edward realized he was running out of air; he needed to make his escape quickly before he was forced to inhale Isabella’s scent.

“It was lovely to meet you all,” he said, bowing politely, “but I must return to the physician presently to meet my father. Good day.”

He turned quickly and walked back across the street towards the doctor’s office, where his father stood waiting, a proud smile on his face.

Edward listened to the thoughts of those behind him as they watched him leave. 

Mr. Newton was glad to see him go, still frustrated that Edward had interrupted his attempt at courting Miss Isabella. 

_I don’t understand,_ Miss Weber was thinking, _Edward seemed so kind just now…_

Miss Swan’s thoughts were… inaccessible. Where her thoughts should have been, there was merely silence. Edward would have thought she had walked away, if it weren’t for the sound of her voice as she bid her own goodbye to Mr. Newton.

Edward strained his ability but, no matter how hard he tried, Isabella Swan’s mind remained hidden.

As their carriage neared Netherfield, pulling off the main road and onto the winding driveway which led to the manor, Edward cocked his head curiously at something only he could hear. 

“What is it, son?” Carlisle asked quietly.

“Esme is positively overjoyed about something,” Edward replied, “as is Alice. I can’t make out what they’re thinking, only the tone of their thoughts, but Rosalie has just left them, and she is furious.” 

_Our dear Rose is singularly gifted at alighting on some reason or another to be cross,_ Carlisle thought with a chuckle. _It gives her something to think of._

The two men shared a look of amusement.

“That is not so unusual,” Carlisle said aloud. 

Edward shook his head with a puzzled expression.

“The last time mother was this delighted, you had bought her an island.”

“Well, then,” Carlisle said with a small smile, “I can’t wait to hear what has brought them such joy.”

Edward nodded, but he had a sneaking suspicion that he himself might not be so keen on the news, whatever it may be.

The carriage pulled out of the trees and onto the circular drive in front of the house, and the thoughts of his mother and sister came into focus at last.

_She’s absolutely correct_ , Esme was thinking, _a dark red will look just delectable with her skin tone._

Alice’s mind, in turn, was swimming with visions of bespoke suits, ribbons, and lace tablecloths; the faces of the people in her premonitions were hazy, as her full attention was given to the colors and draping of the fabrics which surrounded them.

Edward frowned in confusion as he disembarked from the carriage after his father. He may be able to read minds, but he didn’t always easily understand the thoughts of others.

Carlisle looked at him curiously, his unspoken question obvious in his creased brows, but Edward just gave a small shrug, and the two of them made their way into the house.

“Edward tells me there’s been some good news,” Carlisle said cheerfully as they walked into the entryway, where Esme and Alice stood waiting.

“Oh, Alice has had the most wonderful vision,” Esme said, rushing forward to clasp her husband’s hand.

Alice smiled brightly as she recalled what her gift had shown her: Edward, in a suit the color of dried blood, a laughing woman on his arm. It was Isabella, looking breathtaking in a cream-colored gown. Red rose petals rained down from the sky, tossed from the hands of their smiling friends and family. Edward could only stand and stare at his sister in shocked silence as the idyllic marriage scene played out in her mind.

Then the image blurred and changed, and the Miss Swan standing beside him was no longer herself; her eyes were golden and her skin pale as snow, devoid of the charming blush which had painted her cheek on their wedding day. This monster which wore Isabella’s face looked up at the Edward of the future with pure adoration, and, in the present, the vampire felt his dead heart rend in two. 

“No,” he choked out, and he barely registered his sister’s expression of surprise as he knotted his hands in his hair, knocking his hat to the floor carelessly.

To know that he could love, and be loved in return, but that through his love Isabella would lose her humanity, her soul— this was the greatest pain he had ever known. 

He could not cry— just one of the innumerable things he had lost when Carlisle’s venom had burned through his veins— but Edward’s eyes stung with phantom tears.

“What’s wrong?” Esme asked, stepping forward, but Edward turned away.

“Do you expect me to rejoice in these circumstances?” he asked, his voice supernaturally even in spite of his turbulent emotions.

“I will not take the life of an innocent,” Edward went on, shaking his head, “I will not let this vision dictate her fate. The future can change.”

_My son, why won’t you allow yourself this happiness?_ said Esme’s gentle thoughts. _You’ve been alone for so long_ …

“I’d rather live alone forever, than condemn her to eternity alongside me,” Edward said with finality.

And with that, he turned and ran.


	3. A Curious Meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not fully happy with this chapter, but I haven't updated in literal months, so here- have some garbage. Just kidding, I worked really hard on it, I'm just a perfectionist!!!!

The last rays of sunlight had all but faded from the sky, and darkness had begun encroaching on Isabella’s meadow. Suddenly realizing that reading had become difficult, Isabella looked up from her book with surprise. It seemed time had slipped away from her, and the afternoon was nearly gone. Getting to her feet with a soft curse, Isabella hastily brushed her hands over her skirt to dislodge a few stray pieces of grass and weeds, and made to leave the meadow. However, before she had made it more than a few steps, she saw something that made her breath catch in her throat. 

Standing not twenty yards away, half-concealed in the brush and bracken, stood a large wolf. 

Isabella had been warned before by various well-intentioned people that there were wolves in these woods, but she’d grown up surrounded by trees, and had never seen one, so she’d dismissed the possibility— until this moment. 

The wolf’s coat was speckled in shades of gray, and its yellow eyes, which glinted in the last of the dying sunlight, were fixed on Isabella where she stood, frozen in fear. The wolf raised its front paw and took a slow, calculated step forward. Isabella had never given much thought to how she would die, but dying from a wolf attack in the middle of the secluded woods was a fairly grisly way to go. She knew she couldn’t outrun it, so staying completely motionless seemed like the smartest course of action. That is, until the wolf took another step forward, much less slowly this time. That second step was followed by another, and another, and before Isabella could blink, the wolf was running. 

As the wolf sped towards her, Isabella’s last thought was to send up a desperate prayer that her life be spared, and then everything went black.

When Isabella regained consciousness, the first thing she noticed was that she was cold, and pressed from knee to forehead against something as hard as stone. Thinking that heaven couldn’t possibly be this uncomfortable, she opened her eyes slowly, wondering blearily if the wolf had perhaps dragged her body to a nearby cave. However, instead of dark, wet rocks, Isabella found her head resting on something pale, and incredibly smooth. Noticing movement out of the corner of her eye, Isabella turned her head slightly, and saw the blur of something dark rushing past her. 

And that was when she looked up and realized with confusion that she was cradled in the arms of Edward Cullen.

She attempted to speak, but her throat was dry and scratchy. She swallowed, and tried again.

“Edward,” she said. Her voice sounded pathetic even to her own ears, and the arms around her tightened their hold.

“I need you to stay awake for me, Miss Isabella,” he said urgently.

“You hit your head, and I fear you may have a concussion.”

Isabella mulled this over for a few seconds, but a much more pressing thought overtook any concern for herself.

“Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?” she asked, and reached up a shaking hand to press against Mr. Cullen’s icy skin.

“I was sunbathing,” he answered quickly.

Isabella looked up at his chiseled face through narrowed eyes, but didn’t object to his obvious lie. Then something else occurred to her, and she cried out in alarm.

“My book! Edward, we have to go back,” she said, and began squirming in his arms, “we have to go get my book!”

Mr. Cullen merely laughed and tightened his hold, restraining her yet more firmly against his bare chest, and Isabella marveled at his strength, belied by his slender build.

“I just saved you from a wolf, and you’re concerned about a silly romance novel?” he asked incredulously.

“Ann Radcliffe isn’t silly!” Isabella protested, but then she realized what else he had said.

“You saved me from the wolf?” she asked, disbelieving.

“How on earth did you do that?” 

Mr. Cullen said nothing more, and Isabella’s suspicion grew. There were certainly a few things he was not telling her. However, her mind felt rather fuzzy around the edges, and her concerns didn’t seem particularly pressing.

Suddenly, the dark blur around them was gone, replaced by the great expanse of the night sky as Edward carried her across an open field towards a great manor. Isabella recognized the facade of Netherfield, and made a noise of surprise. How in the world had they traveled there so quickly?

“Carlisle,” Edward said as he carried Isabella over the threshold, and then the doctor was there in the entryway, as if he had appeared out of thin air.

“What happened?” Dr. Cullen asked with calm concern, and gestured for Edward to follow him into the nearest sitting room.

“She hit her head,” Edward explained as he gently lay Isabella on the sofa.

“I ran into her in the woods, and suddenly she fainted. She’s been very disoriented,” he elaborated.

Isabella raised her head to glare at Edward, ignoring Carlisle’s noise of protest at her movement.

“No, there was a wolf,” she insisted, and gave her version of events as the doctor ran his fingers gingerly over her skull.

“There was a wolf in my meadow, and I suppose I must have fainted, and then I woke up, and Edward was carrying me, and he said he saved me from the wolf, and he wouldn’t tell me why he isn’t wearing a shirt!”

Carlisle raised an eyebrow at his son, who scoffed.

“You think I saved you from a wolf?” he said derisively, and Isabella bristled.

“You said it yourself!” she cried, trying to sit up, but Dr. Cullen put pressure on her shoulders to keep her reclined.

“Miss Swan, you need to relax,” he said.

“I’m afraid you hit your head rather hard, and you need to rest.”

“Yes, Miss Isabella, you hit your head,” Edward said dismissively, “you’re confused.”

“I am not confused,” Isabella muttered angrily, but stopped trying to sit up. 

“There was a wolf, I swear it…” she mumbled absentmindedly, something about Edward’s angered expression catching the attention of her rattled mind- his eyes were dark, incredibly dark, and not a speck remained of the beautiful golden brown she had noticed just a week ago in Forks Town Hall.

Before Isabella could even begin to process this, Mrs. Esme Cullen rushed into the room, with Alice Cullen following close behind. 

“Oh my stars, what happened?” Esme cried out.

“Miss Isabella Swan fainted in the woods and hit her head,” the doctor explained, “and she needs rest. We’re very lucky that Edward was with her.”

“Oh yes,” Esme agreed with a small smile, “very lucky indeed.”

Isabella frowned, but didn’t protest this twisted telling of the afternoon’s events. She resolved to corner Edward alone later, and needle the truth out of him. 

“Hello, Miss Isabella!” Alice greeted enthusiastically, rushing to her side.

“I’m Alice Cullen. We met very briefly at the ball. It’s a pleasure to see you again!” the diminutive woman said.

“I mean, it’s not a pleasure that you’re ill!” she clarified awkwardly.

“It’s a pleasure that you’re here… being ill.”

“Alice,” the younger Mr. Cullen said darkly, but the fairy-like woman merely rolled her eyes at her brother-in-law.

Isabella giggled, grateful for the kind- albeit strange- words.

“Thank you, Alice. And thank you, Dr. Cullen,” she said, craning her neck to look at the older man, “I’m very grateful to you and your family for taking care of me tonight. I’m afraid I’ve been a terrible imposition.”

“Oh, not at all, dear,” Esme said, stepping forward, “you are most welcome here. In fact, I must insist you stay the night and make a full recovery.”

Edward shot an icy glare at his mother, and Isabella wondered why the young man had gone to such efforts to save her life when he so clearly despised her very presence.

“Oh no, I couldn’t possibly,” Isabella protested, trying once again to sit up, but the doctor’s hands were firm on her shoulders.

“I agree,” Carlisle said, and Isabella struggled to keep her displeasure from showing on her face. She absolutely hated having people fuss over her.

“Edward, please show Miss Swan to one of the guest bedrooms,” the doctor ordered.

“And Alice, can you find something for her to sleep in? Something of Rosalie’s, perhaps?” he went on.

Isabella recalled the haughty expression on Rosalie Cullen’s face at the ball, and hoped that the beautiful woman wouldn’t be too upset about sharing her clothes.

“Follow me, Miss Swan,” Edward said stiffly, and turned to leave the room.

Isabella quickly clambered to her feet, and was surprised by a sudden wave of dizziness. The doctor placed a steadying hand on her arm, and in the back of her mind Isabella noted that he had the same icy touch as his son.

“I’m alright,” she said as the world steadied, and took a careful step towards the door. When she didn’t immediately topple over, she exhaled in relief and hurried to follow the younger Mr. Cullen.

Edward was waiting in the hall just outside the sitting room, but as soon as she appeared he began walking up the grand staircase which led to the upper rooms. Isabella scurried along behind him, once again at a loss as to why the confusing man seemed to dislike her so strongly. His mother and father were so kind, it was a wonder how they had reared someone so impolite.

“Are you going to explain how you saved me? How did we reach Netherfield so fast? And why did you lie to your father about the wolf?” Isabella demanded as they reached the stop of the steps and turned down a corridor.

“You may ask questions which I may choose not to answer,” Edward replied, and Isabella frowned. How cryptic Mr. Cullen could be!

“This is to be your room for the night,” Edward said, stopping in front of a door and stepping aside.

“If you need anything, Alice will be along shortly with some bedclothes for you.”

Isabella opened her mouth to thank him, but before she could get the words out, he had already turned and stalked away. Shaking her head in bemusement, Isabella opened the door and stepped inside one of the most beautifully decorated rooms she had ever seen. If this was merely a spare room, she thought, the doctor’s bedroom must be incredibly lavish.

Isabella had barely taken a step inside, when Alice appeared beside her.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she said, looking around the room.

“It’s one of the nicest rooms in the house. No wonder Edward picked it for you,” the shorter woman said with a smile, puzzling Isabella further.

Alice moved to place a pile of crisp white nightclothes on the end of the bed, and then spun around and grasped Isabella’s hands, her touch just as icy as Edward’s and the doctor’s had been.

“I know we have barely met, Miss Isabella, but I feel as if we are friends already!” Alice said with a smile, which Isabella returned shyly. 

“Thank you, Alice,” she said, thinking that Edward could stand to learn a thing or two from his sister-in-law, “I am sure we will be great friends.”

“Now, I would love to stay and get to know you better,” Alice said, dropping Isabella’s hands and walking towards the door, “but Carlisle insists you get some rest, so I suppose I’ll leave you be.”

“Please do pass on my gratitude to Dr. and Mrs. Cullen for their kindness,” Isabella said emphatically as Miss Cullen walked out into the hall.

Alice assured her she would, and then closed the door behind her, leaving Isabella alone with only her whirling thoughts.

The next morning, Isabella dressed quickly and tried to make no noise as she tip-toed her way downstairs, certain that members of the family were still sleeping, as the sun was just coming over the horizon. She was surprised when she entered the sitting room to find the family wide awake and already occupied with reading, embroidery, letter-writing, and the like.

“Good morning,” Isabella said with a quick curtsy.

“Good morning, dear,” the doctor’s wife said kindly from her perch by the window.

“Good morning, Miss Isabella!” Alice cried, carelessly tossing aside her embroidery with an expression of relief.

“How are you feeling?” the dark-haired woman asked.

“Much better, thank you,” Isabella said, a blush rising to her cheek at faint memories of her behavior the night prior. 

“Where is Dr. Cullen?” Isabella asked, noticing his absence.

“I must thank him again for his kindness.”

“My husband left for town just a moment ago,” Esme said, “but I will be sure to pass a message along.”

Isabella smiled her thanks.

“Oh, and I’m afraid we already ate breakfast,” Esme continued with an apologetic frown.

“We are all very early risers in this family.”

Isabella looked over Esme’s shoulder at the barely-risen sun, streaming golden light over the vast green fields and through the sitting room window. Early risers, indeed!

“However, I left some tea and scones for you, just there,” Esme went on, gesturing.

Isabella cautiously made her way over to the small table Esme had laid out for her, which happened to be very near to where Edward sat at a writing desk. 

“Good morning, Miss Isabella,” he said softly, and Isabella looked up from pouring her tea with surprise.

“Good morning, Mr. Cullen,” Isabella replied cautiously as she set down the teapot.

“I’m glad to hear you are feeling a bit better this morning,” he continued.

“You gave me quite a fright, and I fear my behavior may have been less than gentlemanly.”

Puzzled by this sudden change in demeanor, Isabella searched the man’s face for any clues. Noticing her stare, he quickly turned back to his writing, but Isabella had already noted with great confusion that Edward’s eyes were once again golden in color. Perhaps the darkness of his eyes the night before had merely been an illusion, brought on by her fainting spell.

“Not at all, Mr. Cullen,” Isabella said politely, pushing the mystery from her mind for now, “it is I who should be apologizing. I do believe I owe you my life, and I am therefore indebted to you.”

Edward looked up from his writing and caught her eye once again.

“You owe me nothing,” he said, his voice firm.

Taken aback by the intensity of his gaze, Isabella looked away, her eyes alighting on Esme’s canvas. 

“That is an exquisitely beautiful painting, Mrs. Cullen,” she said in awe, moving closer to get a better look. 

“You have a great amount of talent.”

“Oh, thank you, Miss Swan,” Esme said, looking up from her work with a smile. 

“Do you paint?” Alice asked, coming to stand at Isabella’s side.

“I can hardly get a pen stroke down where I want it,” Isabella said with a wry smile.

“Do not despair, dear,” Esme said kindly.

“I was once quite the same. I have merely had many more years of practice.”

“I do wonder how you ladies have the patience to be so accomplished,” a male voice said from Esme’s other side, and Isabella startled at the sudden appearance of the muscular young Cullen- Emmett, her memory supplied.

“You all paint landscapes, and play the piano, and embroider cushions!” he said, and shook his head with a chuckle.

“Personally, you couldn’t pay me enough to spend so much time indoors.”

“The word ‘accomplished’ is applied far too liberally, by my estimation,” Emmett’s wife said, also rising from the sofa.

“A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages to really deserve the word,” the beautiful woman continued, her chin held high as she joined the little crowd by the window, “and something in her air and manner of walking must carry the superior graces of elevated rank.”

“Such a woman would certainly be a fearsome thing to behold,” Isabella said, doing her best to repress a smile at the obvious pride in the other woman’s voice.

“Indeed,” Rosalie said, baring her white teeth in an approximation of a smile, “fearsome.”

A sudden chill running down her spine, Isabella dropped her gaze and walked back to the small table at Edward’s elbow to return her teacup.

“I thank you all very much for your generosity,” she said, suddenly eager to leave, “but I think I’d better be getting home.”

“Oh, can you not stay a little longer, Miss Isabella?” Alice pouted.

“I am sorry,” Isabella said, “but I have a prior engagement this afternoon that I could not bear to miss.”

The Black family was holding a dinner party that evening, and Isabella could scarcely wait to see her dear friend Jacob, whom she had known since infancy.

“Allow me to walk you to the carriage,” Edward said suddenly, standing from his desk.

“Thank you, Mr. Cullen,” Isabella said, surprised, and pondered once again the peculiar changes in the young man’s attitude towards her.

Edward walked to her side, and the two of them walked out of the house in silence. When they reached the carriage, Isabella turned to her chaperone and curtsied politely.

“Thank you again for your kindness,” she said, “you are all most generous.”

“The pleasure was ours,” Edward replied, his expression guarded.

Isabella nodded and turned away, but startled when she felt Edward’s cold hand slip into her own. Unaccountably, Isabella felt a blush rise to her cheek as he helped her up the tall step into the carriage.

She turned back to face him, a hundred questions threatening to tumble out of her lips, but before she could speak a word, the carriage pulled away with a lurch, and he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Bella's medical condition in this makes no sense; if she had a concussion, the last thing she should be doing is sleeping. However, I was not willing to actually research what happens when you hit your head just to make this Twilight fanfiction more believable, sorry.


End file.
